


Thoughts Across Time

by CatAlex



Category: Assassin's Creed
Genre: Complete, Ficlet Collection, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-02-02
Updated: 2011-02-02
Packaged: 2017-10-15 07:36:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/158540
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CatAlex/pseuds/CatAlex
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Desmond's experiences reliving his ancestor's memories and how they and the Animus have affected him. Spoilers for AC2.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Experiencing reliving the past

**Author's Note:**

> Wrote this on a whim after completing AC2. Really got the old juices flowing. I might write some more ficlets when I feel like it, which I'll put as extra chapters. First off, Desmond's experiences with the Animus. Spoilers for AC2. Hope you enjoy!

It starts off warm, too warm. The Animus is always just a little too warm to the touch to be completely comfortable. This 'Animus 2.0', as Rebecca dubs it, is a little more comfortable. It's more like a chair, lined with some sort of padded red cloth. I think she's separated the main machine bits from the actual chair, unlike the original. The one in Abstergo was all hot plastic and strange lights. I never figured out what they did beyond create uncomfortable dents where I was forced to lay.

Over time I began to realise some of the hotness I was experiencing was part of process of using the machine; that it was my brain telling me I was overheating. My head was always really warm when I came out of the Animus, the rest of me very cold. I try not to think what kind of effects the Animus really has on me. Even the ones I do have to think about, like the hallucinations, that bleeding effect stuff, are scary enough. I still have the occasional nightmare about using my eagle vision for the first time. No matter how hard they scrubbed, they never got rid of all the blood, his message. I ignore the nagging sensation that perhaps I'll eventually end up like that, a lunatic, deranged from the process. The fact that everyone constantly placates me when these fears come to the fore only increases my suspicion. Is it a cost I'm willing to pay, considering the severity of the situation?

… I ran before. I don't know if I'll do it again.

But to the point. What is it like to my ancestors? It's a weird experience, that's for sure. There's a strange divide of reality, like I'm in a waking dream. I can sense my body is motionless even as I'm running across rooftops, assailing guards with an unmoving arm. Yes, like a vivid dream. My brain always ends up a little scrambled after sessions, trying to sort out what did and didn't happen. It's like… my mind is trying to remain in the present, while we drag it to the past, I guess. Over time, it's been taking longer to snap back. Sometimes I can make the transition faster when I concentrate, but I'm always so drained afterwards. I think that's why I dreamed of Altaïr a few times; I didn't make sure I was back before going to sleep. After the last dream, I think I'll be certain I've snapped back.

Experiencing Ezio's memories is more involved than it was with Altaïr. Altaïr was more controlled than Ezio. It was more dreamlike, following Altaïr as he did what he was told. Ezio is passionate, and his fire keeps me more conscious. I think that might be why I absorbed more techniques from him, though I'm no scientist. I wish I could still claim to just be a barman, but here I am. Walking through the streets of Venice, Florence… wherever Ezio takes me. I spent the equivalent of twenty years with him, compressed into a matter of days. No wonder my brain gets hot.

Is it strange to say I like the man? He had style, charm, things I don't really think I possess. When we reached the conclusion of our journey, when we got the information we needed, I felt a little sorry for him. His journey was… for me. Beyond weird. He was short changed at the end. I want to find out what happened to him after, if it bothered him to never fully understand his role in time, that he was helping faces he'll never know in a future he'll never see. Yeah, that's probably going to haunt me for the rest of my life.

This rabbit hole is probably one I'll never escape now. At least I'm in decent company; as decent as it gets right now. I've just realised Lucy is looking at me as I scribble this.

She asked me if I usually kept a diary. No, I never have. But in light of events, I feel compelled to record some of my lame thoughts. These experiences have changed me; the Animus has affected more than I probably know. I have a funny feeling Altaïr and Ezio's natures are part of me beyond genetics, that their minds have merged a little with my own. I'm probably no longer completely me anymore. And that's okay, I guess. It's not like much was in there beforehand. There's some room for a couple more in here. At least they were useful. And apparently kept diaries. Thanks, great, great, great, great, great-

On the move.


	2. Further Musings of Desmond

I'm getting used to this diary writing. Before everything went to hell, I never really got the point. Maybe I just had nothing to write about. It probably would have been something like 'Month Two after escape; learned to mix a White Russian. Saving up for bike licence'. Not exactly a page turner.

The escape. That's how I thought of it, until I got kidnapped by Abstergo. I mean, I'm sure my parents are pretty worried. But they never told me my heritage, nothing. How was I supposed to know there were modern day Templar lunatics hunting us down? And they didn't do a good job of keeping us that safe if  _I_  managed to slip out of the compound. I was taught nothing. All my education has come from people hundreds of years in my past. I had to live two other lives to become a proper Assassin. What was the point of keeping this all from me and not giving me the tools to defend myself?

I briefly touch the hidden blade Lucy gave me. It looks old. Maybe it's just modelled off of old technology. We're not exactly the most well equipped bunch if this is my most dangerous weapon to hand. Still, those Templar lackeys were only armed with swords. You would have thought power seeking lunatics would go for guns, maybe lasers or something.

I'm sorry I thought you were a bunch of hippies, Mom and Dad. If I see you guys again, I don't think I'll apologise. I'll be too mad at you about keeping all this stuff from me. Maybe they thought I wasn't good enough to pass the torch to? I'd always dreamed of leaving the compound above all else. They knew that. I guess… I was too unreliable to be entrusted with the facts.

I tell Lucy this later. She sits by the fire, watching me carefully. It's late. There's an awkward silence that I don't know whether to interrupt or not. I have nothing to say, so I keep my trap shut. After a while Lucy gives me a slight sad smile.

She tells me she doesn't think they didn't trust me. That the compound I described would have been heavily guarded and I shouldn't have been able to get out. I was confused, and she could see it, because she laughed.

'Desmond,' she said, 'they let you escape.'

I think the word I'm looking for is dumbfounded. Yeah, or dumbstruck. That's a word, right?

'So… why?' I finally asked her, once my brain started working again.

'Because they wanted you to be free.'

Freedom. Suddenly I could see everything from another perspective, almost like reliving my own life through the Animus. How my parents kept me in the dark, listened to how I wanted to live in the city and have a normal life.

I really want to see them again. I'd never felt so homesick. And I would apologise for being an idiot, for thinking they were the bad guys for so long. I hope they're okay.


End file.
